


Tell Me Now You Know

by serohtonin



Series: Let It Unfold [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:36:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/787758">this</a>. Darren accepts Chris' pleas for forgiveness, but struggles with their burgeoning romance during their summer apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me Now You Know

**Author's Note:**

> There are mentions of Chris/Will, brief mention of Darren/OFC, Darren/Mia, Cory/Lea.
> 
> Disclaimer: Though heavily inspired by real life events, the relationship depicted between Chris and Darren herein is completely fictional.
> 
> A/N: Title taken from Rihanna's "Stay." Thanks Dana for the quick beta!

Darren pours a drink after he hangs up with Chris.

Breaking it off wasn't easy, especially when Chris had confessed the words he needed to hear for months:

_"I need you, okay? I didn't--I didn't want to, but I do."_

_"I told you I wanna start over..."_

_"I wanna do it right this time."_

But Darren drowns it out with the first alcohol he finds in his apartment, some half-drunk bottle of red wine from the last time he entertained a date here.

Darren hadn't even asked whether or not Chris had broken up with Will, didn't think it was relevant, given that Darren already agreed to continue an affair with Chris regardless of the other man's relationship with his boyfriend.

He would have surrendered to Chris either way.

Chris had hurt him too much, though, and he had to focus on new endeavors entirely unrelated to Glee, Chris, or anything resembling a romantic entanglement.

Yeah, it would be best if he forgot about the way Chris' skin tasted, or how his eyes sparkled blissfully that day in Chris' trailer, when the world reduced to only the two of them.

Clearly, the wine wasn't working.

He gulps the last of his glass, and grabs a bottle of whiskey.

He retreats to his room and grabs his ratty old acoustic guitar, a trusted friend whenever he broken off relationships, or fucked them up a bit.

One of the few things in his life that he knew wouldn't betray or refuse him.

He stumbles through a familiar slow melody at first, but then, it evolves into something original and angry with every new sip of alcohol, and each memory of Chris.

He remembers the night Chris had shown up after the "Struck by Lightning" premiere, the one that had started their sexual relationship, the wild, hungry gaze he had caught Chris giving him before Darren turned around and submitted to acts he never thought he would.

That awards show, where an argument had somehow turned into Darren on his knees, sucking off Chris, who had shown up there with his boyfriend.

Lea's party, last night, where Chris had taunted him by kissing Will, and still, somehow, it ended with Darren and Chris angrily jerking each other off in the bathroom, which culminated in alternate realizations for the two men.

Darren concluded that he couldn't handle the pain of Chris toying with him, that he didn't want to let Chris crawl back to him anymore.

While maybe Chris had finally realized that Darren was the only one he needed, albeit far too late.

Well, Chris shouldn't be allowed to change his mind, after all the times Darren had pleaded with him to leave Will, but Chris had left Darren instead.

Chris had firmly decided that what he wanted _wasn't_ Darren, not until he couldn't have him.

Except he still could, because Chris had been drunk and Darren always left their relationship gray and ambiguous.

He's not doing that again.

He nearly pops a string as his strumming becomes wilder. 

He doesn't know if he wants to put words to this. He never wants anyone to hear it and know how stripped raw he's feeling.

His music is a piece of his soul, and this is a shred he's not willing to share quite yet, or ever, maybe, like his feelings for Chris are a secret part of him he can't ever reveal.

Even if he hides it, though, Chris will always reside somewhere in his brain, and his heart.

Maybe he won't ever be able to eliminate the void he created when he pushed Chris out of his life, but he's going to fill it with new friends, and old friends, until the ache dulls.

He's going to practice, do press, and prepare for the tour, because, _oh right, that's happening._

He'll have to feign excitement for a little while until he actually feels it.

Traveling to another city might help.

\----

It helps, for a little while, to talk about a passion for something very personal, his own creations that he can't wait to unleash onto the world, and hope that at least one person will like them.

Until he realizes that New York plagues him with memories of Chris, moments when they were mostly happy, before Darren fucked it up with his stupid feelings.

A shocked and sweaty Darren squeezing Chris tight when he snuck into a semi-impromptu performance that Darren decided to give while they were on the Glee Live tour. Darren remembers a strange wave of rightness washing over him, like Chris' arms were where he always wanted to remain.

He remembers filming in Battery Park, beaming at Chris like an idiot when Chris touched his arm between takes, and wistfully sighing as he looked over at Cory and Lea holding hands by the fountain, their heads bent together intimately. 

He remembers ice skating for thirteen hours, stumbling and laughing (Chris did most of the stumbling, and Darren did most of the laughing, while recording bits of it on his phone), and very nearly admitting his feelings.

Maybe he should have kept those feelings hidden, but he knew that would have been impossible.

With all the tension brewing between he and Chris since they had met, they were bound to collide.

They were inevitable.

He wishes they weren’t an inevitable train wreck, though, like Chris had compared them to, because now he’s stuck dealing with the collateral damage, like how a city he loves is tainted with heartache.

\----

He's boarding a plane back to L.A. when he gets a text from the one person he can't stop thinking about, the one person he doesn't _want_ to think about.

_Will you *please* talk to me?_

He exits the message without answering.

He briefly entertains deleting all the messages, pictures, and videos of Chris, but he doesn't.

He's not ready for that, and he's not sure he ever will be.

\----

Aside from work stuff, during the next couple weeks, he mostly hangs out by himself. If anyone notices this uncharacteristic behavior, they don’t say anything, not even Joey.

He continues ignoring Chris every time he texts or calls, thankful that the other man doesn’t try to stop by, because Darren is still torn between making him grovel and slamming the door in his face.

He scribbles down more music to deal with this uncontrollable rage and grief swelling inside of him.

It quells the emotions enough for him to function and not drown himself in alcohol every night.

Then, he lays in bed, and fights the urge to touch himself when thoughts of Chris invade his senses.

Sometimes, he doesn't win the battle.

After this, he sleeps for a bit before waking up in the middle of the day and continuing the same process.

\----

He dreads the day he has to wake up and fly to New York again for the upfronts.

It'll be nice, seeing the fans and catching up with acquaintances, but it also means seeing Chris.

The last time he went there, it was fashion and fun, and erasing Chris by falling into bed with an old girlfriend.

But, this time, he’ll have to face Chris rather than forget him.

Being kind of sick makes matters so much worse.

Still, he dresses up and plasters on a smile, his spirits lifting when he notices how many fans have shown up wanting pictures and autographs.

He hugs a few of them and ensures that they get what they came for before he rushes into the lobby.

Lea accosts him for a hug, looking a lot brighter than the last time they saw each other. She begs him for a group shot with the fellow cast members attending the event.

Of course, this includes Chris.

"Hey guys!" He addresses everyone collectively with a wave and a smile, the latter faltering a bit when he finally makes eye contact with Chris.

Chris clears his throat and opens his mouth to say something, but Lea interrupts him.

" 'Kay, time for a pic!" she yells excitedly.

They all scrunch together to fit in the shot. Darren even makes a sort of funny expression, but tries not to lean in too close.

Considering the last time he posed for a picture with Chris, and what has happened since, he figures it's best not to do that, no matter how much his body craves Chris' warmth.

He follows everyone toward the restaurant proper, not missing how Chris' fingers brush against the small of his back in the press to get inside.

Darren glances over at him, and lets out a wry chuckle.

"Dare, c'mon," Chris whispers in his ear. "I just want you to--"

But he pulls away before Chris can finish, in favor of grabbing a drink and chatting up some other people.

His phone beeps while in the midst of a conversation. He knows it's kind of rude, but he excuses himself and pulls it out to check the message.

It's from Chris.

_Please._

He looks across the room, meeting Chris' questioning expression.

He stares back but doesn't answer the message.

His phone beeps again.

_Enough with the fucking cold shoulder. We're in the same room. This is ridiculous._

"Sorry, I should take this," he smiles politely to the actress whose name he can't remember, and turns to lean against the bar.

She leaves him, taking that as her cue to mingle with the other guests at the event.

Instead of walking over to where Chris is seated, with some of their other castmates, and apparently Will, who’s joined them, he replies via text:

_Isn't that your boyfriend next to you? Can we please not do this?_

He finishes his drink, and another text comes in from Chris.

_Quit sulking. You have to come sit eventually. Can we actually talk later, or are you going continue acting like an immature teenager?_

He supposes he is acting immature by ignoring Chris, but the alternative to it is collapsing into Chris' arms, and tearing into open wounds that are still healing, because he’s learning that, with Chris, he can't do casual or halfway.

Either they're lovers, or nothing. He can't handle the inbetween anymore.

Darren sighs and sits down next to Jenna, a couple seats away from Chris and his date.

He's proud of himself when his eyes only stray over to Chris for one brief second, who doesn't glance back.

Darren does, however, fidget in his seat, fighting the magnetic pull to check out what Chris is doing, who he's talking to, how he's touching Will, _if_ he's touching Will.

He should probably give in and at least talk to Chris, because he can't maintain his current strategy when he has to work with Chris again.

Hell, he can't maintain it now.

Even with the way they hurt each other, he can't seem to leave Chris alone.

He responds to Chris' text, admitting defeat to himself:

_Can I come to your room later?_

Chris looks up at him once he reads the message and nods, mouthing, "Thank you."

\----

He shows up at Chris' hotel room later that night.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you, or that I think things could ever work between us," Darren lies sharply, once Chris opens the door.

"Okay," he answers solemnly. "So, why are you here?"

"Um, I'm a fucking idiot, apparently," he walks in and closes the door. "Despite everything, I can't let you go."

He doesn't fail to notice the tiny hitch in Chris' breath before the other man speaks.

"Then, why have you been ignoring me?"

“Because I _should_ let you go, like you said. You were right all along. Nothing’s changed.”

They’re standing close enough that Darren could cup Chris’ face in his hands, could taste the lips he's been missing for so long, but he doesn’t. 

He won’t.

Chris doesn’t make a move to touch him, either.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not, huh? Then, why is _he_ here?”

Chris snaps back, “ _He_ has a name, and what else was I supposed to do? You haven’t talked to me in over a month. Besides--”

"Jesus, you're manipulating me all over again, and I'm letting you. I--"

Darren turns to leave, but Chris grabs his wrist.

"I thought you wanted to talk. So, let me talk."

Chris stares at him with soft, pleading eyes, and a slight quiver in his bottom lip. The vulnerability in his face crumbles through the wall that Darren's been intent on building between them.

But only for a second, because Darren remembers that this is how Chris looked right before he reasoned that they could never be anything more than a few good fucks.

He'd break down and cry, and Darren would help him through it, but Chris would always leave again.

Darren doesn't want to fall for it, and yet, he does, because Chris is standing there, stripped bare, in a way he's only witnessed on set, under the guise of someone else. The sliver of his heart that still holds pure affection for Chris seems to swell and dominate every other emotion until it's only beating out _Chris, Chris, Chris._

He realizes that maybe he'll never want anyone else as strongly as he wants the person in front of him right now.

He won't let Chris know this, though. He can't let this man destroy him again.

"What if I don't wanna talk? Talking only seems to fuck us up,” Darren finally replies.

"We can't be any more fucked than we already are," Chris chuckles sarcastically, maintaining his grip on Darren's wrist. "C'mon, please."

Darren sighs, "How many times did I beg you to talk to me, and you didn't listen? Why should I listen to you?"

"You're here, aren't you?" He pulls Darren closer to him, close enough that their pant legs brush together, but there's no real friction between any other parts.

"Then, prove to me that I matter to you."

Chris pauses, his eyes darting to Darren's lips. "I--I love you."

"Don't lie to me," he whispers as Chris leans in. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."

"I mean it. I think I've felt this way for quite a while."

Chris closes the gap between them, and kisses him. Darren resists at first, but realizes it's futile because ultimately, he knows that this is what he wants, no matter the risks. He submits and presses himself closer to Chris, forcing down thoughts of how it'll affect him if Chris retreats, like he always does.

Still, he murmurs, "Are you sure?" as his lips trail over Chris' neck and his hands trail under Chris' shirt.

"No. I'm never sure of anything when it comes to you." Chris' hand shakes when he clasps Darren's hips. "You're fucking terrifying, but I do, unhh, feel strongly about you, and I don't wanna lose you, either."

The admission strikes him still for a moment, but then he quickly focuses on unbuttoning Chris' shirt instead, mouthing at his now exposed collarbone. "What about everything else? Every _one_ else?"

"Don't care. Just touch me," he breathes.

Darren hates that he's in this position again. Chris is the one begging, and yet, he still feels like _he's_ the one at Chris' mercy, because, ultimately, he'd do anything Chris asked, especially this.

He despises it, but he relishes in it, too. 

There's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Chris is offering himself, and Darren would be a fool not to take this opportunity.

"Okay," he says more to himself than to Chris. He unzips the fly of Chris' pants, reaching inside Chris' underwear to curl his fingers around his semi-hard dick. “You really want this, huh? You missed it, didn’t you?” he asks with a possessive edge, like _he’s_ the only one who can ignite this feeling in Chris.

“Y-yeah. Missed you. Always you, only you, Dare.” Chris’ hand blazes a path along the bare skin he uncovers as he bunches up Darren’s shirt. “Wanna touch you, too.”

"So, fucking do it already."

He pulls Darren's shirt over his head and kisses him hard. Before Darren can even process it, he's flat on his back. "I can't stop thinking about you," Chris mumbles between kisses as he finally thrusts his hand down Darren's pants. "I don't want to anymore."

"Then, don't," Darren breathes out. He pushes Chris' pants and underwear down his legs, letting his hands roam over Chris' ass. "Stay with me."

He answers by grinding down against him, and nipping at Darren's collarbone. "I want to," Chris pulls away long enough to answer as he removes his own shirt. "God, do I want to."

"Please," Darren finds himself begging once again, despite, or maybe because of, all that's happened between them.

He realizes that this version of Chris, the one who loves him, even in secret, is still someone worth fighting for.

Chris wordlessly shimmies Darren's underwear down his hips. He licks his lips and shoots a hungry glance at Darren before sinking his mouth over Darren's mostly hard cock.

"Unhh, fuck," Darren shouts, admiring the way Chris' lips stretch around him, taking him in so wonderfully. "You're so fucking beautiful."

Chris' head bobs as he swallows him deeper, and then comes back up to suck at the head. One of his hands wraps around the base while the other reaches for Darren's hand.

Darren feels his arousal building, so he thrusts up into the perfect heat of Chris' mouth. Tears well in his eyes, not necessarily for the good head he's getting, but because Chris entwines their fingers, a rare demonstration of affection suggesting that maybe his feelings are real, and that Chris has accepted them.

Even if he's dealing with them in familiar ways, Darren shouldn't exactly complain.

Except he wants more, _needs_ more than just this. Chris licks up the shaft, and is about to dive back down, when Darren strains up to caress Chris' cheek.

"Chris," he utters cautiously, running his thumb over red, swollen lips.

He distracts Darren for a second, sucking at the pad of Darren's finger, as expertly as he had been sucking his cock.

Darren licks his lips, tempted to let him continue his previous task, but then he remembers what he wants. "Chris, no, wait. I-- Kiss me."

Chris' eyes narrow, but he obliges, meeting Darren's mouth and pushing him down.

"I was enjoying that as much as you were," Chris flirts playfully as he pulls away, guiding Darren's hand to his dick. "Couldn't you tell?"

Darren smiles, enjoying the groan he elicits when he grips Chris' cock. "Mmm, yeah," he kisses Chris again, "but you said," he pauses for another kiss, and a moment of consideration, "you said something really important. We shouldn't shy away from that."

"Talking only fucks us up, remember?" he sucks at a spot near Darren's ear. "Hmm, scratchy. I kinda like it," he remarks conversationally, and then continues. "Let's not talk yet, okay? Unhh, I miss you and we're naked, and-- oh God, don't stop."

Darren sighs, acquiescing to Chris’ desires, and curling his hand around both of them the best he can. He buries his face in the crook of Chris’ neck, inhaling the scent of him, as Chris bites down on his shoulder.

Darren grunts at the pain, awkwardly kicking out of his pants the rest of the way, and then wrapping a leg at the small of Chris' back to bring him closer.

The change in angle makes Darren curse, and work his hand harder so he can bring them off faster. He kisses the curve of Chris' neck, and runs his other hand along Chris' spine.

"Please," Darren whispers into Chris' ear, "I need to hear you."

Chris soothes over the bite. "Sorry. Shit," he exhales, thrusting into Darren's fist.

"Don't apologize anymore. You can," he kisses Chris' neck, his cheek, any skin that his mouth can reach, "you can let go around me. I hope you know that."

"Yeah, yeah," is all he can return, his lips brushing Darren's neck so delicately that the other man almost wants to cry. "I can't-- ungghh, Dare--"

Then, Chris is coming in hot, wet spurts between them, Darren working him through it until Chris collapses halfway on top of him.

"Lemme," Chris slurs, batting Darren's hand away, and lazily beginning to stroke Darren's cock.

Darren groans in relief when Chris' hand grips the base, and on the third upstroke when Chris' thumb grazes over the slit in the head, Darren hits his release.

He comes down from the high, staring at the dreamy look on his partner's face. He can't believe he's here again, with Chris, naked in every way that one person can be with another.

Still swelling with joy, he smiles back at Chris and kisses his shoulder, but then he quickly remembers the state they were in when he arrived. They barely exchanged words before they fell into each other's arms again, like almost every other time they were alone together. They probably would have done so regardless of Chris' confession, which he's not quite sure he should trust yet. 

Darren breaks the silence as Chris rolls off of him. "This doesn't fix everything."

"I know that, but I don't wanna screw around anymore, Darren. I care about you, but," he drapes an arm and leg over Darren's body, absently tracing patterns across Darren's chest, "I'm so scared. I've never felt this way before."

"Me neither," Darren admits. "I mean, I've had feelings for people, but with you, it's like, a whole different story."

He doubles over to fully remove his pants, and pillows his head on Darren’s chest. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. So, if you were trying to win me back or whatever, why the hell did you bring that guy?”

Chris raises his head to look at him. “You’re really going to bring this up _now?”_

“When else am I going to do it? Your intention tonight was to explain, so, explain.”

"Things didn't work out with Will, 'cause--"

Darren sits up, questioning how he ended up in the same position yet again. "So, you bring him to New York with you? I'm your second choice _again?"_

"Have you listened to me _at all?_ Ugh, I really don't wanna fight with you."

"I don't, either, but it seems to be our natural state."

"Listen," he pushes Darren down again and straddles him, "you're not my second choice. There isn't even a choice, okay? You told me not to apologize again, so I won't, but," he kisses Darren on the mouth, sweeter than he ever has before, like a promise, "you're the only one I want. Please believe me."

"Forgive me if I have a little trouble with that, considering what we've been through." His answer comes out breathlessly, rather than venomously, like he intends.

"I understand. What do I have to do to convince you?" Chris asks between kisses down his neck.

He mulls it over, wondering if all of Chris' actions tonight are enough.

They shouldn't be.

How he can trust someone who's repeatedly disappointed him?

All they've done since their pseudo-relationship started is have sex, and argue about what it meant, with Chris mostly shutting him out.

Thus, maybe if they refrained from engaging in a physical relationship, they could build better communication skills, without any sexual bullshit in the way.

“Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we should stop having sex, for a little while, at least."

"Technically, we haven't had sex in over a month," he trails his lips down Darren's chest.

Darren raises his eyebrow when Chris grins up at him. "Lack of penetration does not mean lack of sexual gratification. I think it'd be good idea to abstain for a bit, get to know each other without that aspect. Start fresh. Can you stop?"

Chris sits back up. "That is the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard."

"It _is not._ Do you care about me?" Darren questions seriously, pushing Chris flat against the bed and leaning over him.

"Of course I do," he replies tenderly, cupping Darren's cheek.

He closes his eyes and nuzzles into the touch. "Then, can you honor my proposal? We used to get along so well before all _this,"_ his eyes flickers down between their bodies, "and now it's what we've been reduced to lately, and if you really wanna try us as a thing, I think it's what we should do."

“I do,” he smiles warmly at Darren, “want to try _us._ I don’t know how it’ll work, but I’d like to try.”

Darren returns it with a small half-grin. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Chris.”

"Me too," he leans up to kiss Darren, sucking on his top lip, "but I just got you back. I want this," his hands slide down to Darren's ass. "I want you."

He sucks in a harsh breath when Chris squeezes, pulling his cheeks apart. “I know you do. That part’s never been in question, but we need to know if we can do the other part, too.”

His fingers dance up Darren's spine. "You mean the feelings part? I thought I made that pretty clear."

"Those are only words. You have to make them, unhh, mean something." He attempts to follow his own advice, fighting back the urge to grind into Chris' touch.

"I intend to, but can't we do that without sacrificing any orgasms?"

Chris' eyebrows furrow so adorably, like they always do when he's lost in thought, so Darren has to kiss it away.

His lips brush down Chris' nose, continuing to his mouth. "I wish we didn't, but--" he laments, before Chris swallows the rest of his statement with a kiss that starts with a quick peck, but turns fierce.

Chris sucks at Darren's lower lip, then catches it between his teeth. He releases his hold and slips his tongue in Darren's mouth, as his fingertip ghosts over Darren's asshole.

He hitches a leg up, forcing Darren closer, while pulling his mouth away to whisper in Darren's ear, "Are you punishing me, for not," he grunts, "expressing my feelings when you wanted me to?"

It's difficult to even form another coherent thought when Chris touches him and kisses him like that, but he manages, "Fuck, you're impossible. I--I don't know. It might be easier without that pressure?"

"What pressure?" Chris presses his thumb around Darren's rim.

"Fuck you. No-no more games."

"I told you," he rests his palm against Darren's lower back, "that's not what I want. I'll agree to your idiotic arrangement, because I really care about you, and because I don't think you could hold out very long."

Darren kisses Chris' jaw. "Clearly, you underestimate my willpower. I'd say I'm holding out pretty well so far."

"And you're the one who's saying no more games?" Chris chuckles.

"I'm gonna be gone soon. I wanna know that _this,"_ he lays his hand on Chris' heaving chest, "can be real, that _we_ can be real."

Chris clutches Darren's hand. "We can be. We are, but you're acting like I'll be sitting at home pining for you, like I have nothing else going on. We'll be okay."

 _Like I was for you, like a pathetic idiot, even though_ I _had stuff going on?_ he wants to snap back, but that won't help them heal.

“I know you have a life, too,” he says instead as he rolls off of Chris, “but our reality is that we can’t always be around each other, and I’d like this to work out.”

“And that's a reality I'm perfectly willing to accept without you testing me. How long do you wanna do this?” He wonders exasperatedly without looking over.

"Um, until the tour's over, or 'til our summer break is done, I guess," he thinks. "Whenever we're both in the same place again."

"Ugh. Fine. I probably deserve it, but," Chris flops back on top of him, "we're in the same place now. Can we suspend it 'til we leave New York?" He nips at Darren's jaw. "Or at least after tonight?"

"I--oh my God," he yells out when Chris sucks at his right nipple. "You play so fucking dirty, Colfer."

He blows on it, causing Darren to shiver. He circles it while he proposes breathily, "So, temporary hold, yes or no?"

"O-only tonight. Then, no, unhh, no more for a while. Fuck, I didn't even know that was a thing for me."

"What was that about willpower?" Chris mumbles against Darren's other nipple.

He mentally curses Chris for instinctively knowing how to manipulate him so well. "Shut up and fuck me."

“Ooh, you're such a little slut for it, aren’t you?” Chris returns, curving his fingers around Darren’s cock. “My little cockslut.”

“Yeah, shit.” All the blood rushes south as he guiltily enjoys this sudden change in Chris’ demeanor. Admittedly, there’s some truth in those words, but he doesn’t dwell on that fact. “Uh huh. All yours, only yours. Please.”

“You want me to fuck you, huh? You missed having me inside you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yes,” he moans, Chris working him in slow, lazy strokes that drive him crazy. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. Fuck, I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“Good,” Chris bites back harshly. “Me, too. It was such hell, wasn’t it?”

He thrusts up into Chris’ tight grip at the head, then kisses and licks at Chris’ jaw. “Mhmm.”

“It doesn’t have to, uhh, be like that anymore. Hold on.”

Chris slinks down to the end of the bed and bends over, giving Darren such a perfect view of his ass that his mouth waters with the ache to worship.

“ ‘Kay,” Chris bites his lip, looking over his shoulder and smiling knowingly before turning around again with two shiny foil packs curling in his fist. He drops them down, and stands, his whole pale but still beautifully flushed body on display in front of Darren.

As his deep blue eyes meet Darren’s own hazel ones, he nudges Darren’s ankle with his knee.“C’mon, open up,” Chris commands gently. 

Darren follows, bending his legs at the knee and pressing his feet flat into the bed. 

Chris kneels between them. His eyes, seemingly a shade darker, linger over every inch of Darren’s skin. “So good for me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Always so good for me. I bet you don’t even let anyone touch that pretty little asshole.”

His finger teases around the part he’s discussing, while Darren grunts beneath him.

“No. Fuck,” he blurts out, though he’s not sure whether or not Chris was searching for an answer. “No one. Only you. Not even me. I’ve tried, unhh,” he breaks off when Chris lightly presses a thumb where he had been circling, “I’ve tried toys, but I can’t--Doesn’t work.”

“Really? That’s quite, mmm, interesting information.”

Darren whimpers at the sudden loss when Chris pulls away. He licks his lips, watching as Chris slicks up his fingers.

He slips a fingertip inside, feeling Darren tighten around him.

"Ooh," Darren grunts.

Chris rubs at Darren's thigh with his free hand. "Shh, relax." He experimentally moves his digit. "I won't hurt you on purpose, unless you want me to."

"Unghh," Darren pushes back, doubting he’d object even if Chris did unintentionally hurt him. Sex injuries are usually the best kind, especially when he’s planning to exile himself for at least a couple months. He wants to remind himself of what he’s missing. "Want you in me. Wanna feel it."

“Honey, I am in you, even if it's not the way you want yet. It’s been a while. You need some time, y’know,” he pulls out and adds more lubrication to his fingers, “but since you’re so hot when you’re begging for it, I’ll give you another.”

Darren feels the semi-familiar stretch and slight burn when Chris presses in again, this time with two fingers. “C’mon,” he moans and writhes at the touch that’s barely hitting the spot he needs. “Not enough.”

“I know,” Chris grins from above him, crooking his fingers in and out a few more times, before he fits a third finger in, “but you’re taking it so well, and I wanna see what your face looks like when you’re hungry for it, when you’re fucking down so hard on my fingers because you know you need more. You need me.”

His eyes squeeze shut, and then fly open to meet Chris’ gaze. He wants to deny it, even now, after agreeing to a conditional reunion, but he nods. He grabs Chris' wrist where it rests against his leg, and pulls Chris down. "C'mere."

He captures Chris' lips, briefly sliding his tongue past the seam, and quickly retracting it. His hand reaches between them to grasp at Chris' cock. "You need me, too," he finally counters when he breaks the kiss.

Chris swats Darren's hand away. "I'm not denying that anymore." He fumbles around until he finds the foil square on the bed and pulls back to tear it open. "I won't deny you anymore."

The strength of Chris' declaration jolts through Darren’s heart with utter clarity. It isn’t laced with desperation, like Chris’ earlier three word admission when he could have lost Darren forever. It feels surer, like a promise, more like the proof Darren had been seeking.

It feels like love.

Darren remembers he didn't return that sentiment, and suddenly, he _really, really_ wants to.

However, he loses all coherent thought when Chris presses his fingers in deep, and then slowly drags them out.

"Chris, I--" he tries, clenching around nothing.

Chris wipes his fingers on the sheets and rolls on the condom. "Shh, I've got you," he reassures before gripping Darren's hips and sinking to the hilt in one go.

Darren’s so full that he feels like he’ll break open and fly apart if either of them move at all. Tears fill his eyes because the pain borders on pleasure; he’s hitting the perfect spot, finally, completing a circuit that had been broken since the last time Chris had left him. The tears threaten to fall when they lock eyes again, and Chris repeats, “I’ve got you. How is it?”

“Overwhelming,” he answers honestly. “I don’t know. I--Can you stay still for a little bit?”

Chris chuckles into Darren’s shoulder. “Sorry, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say you wanted to be still. Yeah, okay,” he kisses the side of Darren’s neck in apology. “Okay.”

Darren can’t help letting out a short, breathless laugh as well, because Chris is probably right.

Then they quiet down, save for breathing in the temporary stillness of each other.

Darren kisses Chris’ shoulder, his neck, the side of his face, until he feels ready. “Please, move,” he whispers into Chris’ ear desperately.

“Alright.” He pulls almost the all way out before slowly inching back in.

The friction of his own cock rubbing against Chris' belly and the drag of Chris inside him is agonizingly dissatisfying. “Fuck, I don’t want it slow. Please, fuck me."

"I want to savor this, Darren," he teases the words out as he pulls out, the head of his cock snagging on the rim. He squeezes Darren's hips and slides fully inside, balls flush to his ass. "When will we be together like this again, huh?"

He's coiled up tight, aching with the need to come, but one glance into Chris' warm, caring eyes tells him that Chris needs to draw this out just as much, that maybe his emotions are finally catching up with what they're doing.

Maybe Chris does mean what he's been saying this whole night.

"Unhh. Fine," Darren complies. "Can you at least touch me?"

"Yeah. 'Course. Missed touching you. Missed it so much," he answers, awkwardly taking hold of Darren's cock.

“So I’ve been told,” Darren replies, voice low and seductive, pretending to be unaffected by the gravity of his realization. He cups Chris’ neck, drawing him in for a kiss, which begins chaste but quickly turns fiercer. He sucks on Chris’ lower lip, then his upper lip.

As Darren swipes his tongue against the roof of Chris' mouth, Chris builds a rhythm, stroking up toward the head as he nearly pulls out, and reaching the base when he slams in.

Chris breaks away to catch his breath and instead pant into Darren's neck as he continues his relentless pace.

Chris' grip is dry and a little rough, but it isn't long before Darren lets out, "Oh, fuck," and he's coming hot and hard over Chris' fist.

“Yeah, yes,” Chris mutters, thrusting a few more times into Darren’s used, oversensitive body, until he comes, too. He stays inside for a couple moments, Darren lightly running his fingers over Chris’ back. He pulls out but still doesn’t move off of him. “Darren,” Chris’ lips brush against his collarbone before he finally sits up to dispose of the condom.

“Yeah?” he asks lazily, splaying his limbs out across the bed like a starfish.

Chris returns, curling up next to him. “I don’t wanna leave you anymore,” he answers quietly as he rests his head on Darren’s sweaty chest.

He wraps an arm over Chris’ shoulders. “And I don’t want you to, but it’s going to happen.”

“Well, in a practical sense, yeah, but like this, I mean.” He loosely grasps Darren’s wrist and thumbs over his pulse point. “I wanna be with you. I understand if you don’t trust me, but I really do want this now.”

“Chris, I--”

He holds Darren’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “Anything I do, I want you to remember that, okay?”

Between the tireless pursuit Chris has engaged in, his raw admissions tonight, and the way he’s touching him now, Darren believes him.

He still doesn't return the three words lingering on his tongue, though.

"So," Chris goes on, "the whole sexless summer thing? You still wanna do that?"

"Um," he glances down at their intertwined hands, wondering how he'll deprive himself of what he's been craving for so long, but there are no other options. He wants learn to trust Chris again, and they won't exactly be in each other's vicinity for the foreseeable future anyway.

"I think we should," Darren finishes.

"Alright," he answers solemnly. "I guess I have to respect that."

"It may be fucking idiotic, but I'm doing it because I want this to last," Darren justifies to Chris, but also to himself. "I don't want what we had before.”

Chris' laugh rumbles against Darren's chest. "I don’t either. We actually found something we agree on."

Darren rubs at Chris’ shoulder with his free hand. “I’d like to think we agree on the things that matter, most of the time.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Chris smiles, kissing the middle of Darren’s chest.

\----

They fall asleep together, and wake up, peacefully, for once.

While Darren steps out of the shower, Chris is brushing his teeth, shyly stealing a glance.

Chris spits out a quick apology, though they know that neither of them are sorry.

They continue getting ready for the day and Chris leans in for a quick kiss goodbye, but Darren stops him with a palm to Chris' chest.

"Don't," Darren warns.

"Why not?" he wonders, hurt evident in his tone.

"Because, I won't want you to stop," Darren sighs. "I should get back to my room, y'know. Make sure no one catches my walk of shame."

"You shouldn't be ashamed. I'm not."

Before Darren can object again, Chris gives him a peck on the cheek and leans his forehead against Darren's.

"I really care about you," Chris murmurs. "Don't forget it."

" 'Kay."

With all this sudden affection, and constant reassurance, Darren can’t help feeling uneasy that the peace they’ve found may not last.

\----

Despite the unease, a bright glimmer of hope lingers in Darren, too, that maybe, everything between he and Chris really has changed.

After a day hanging out with friends, away from Chris, he carries that hope with him to Jane's Broadway premiere, which a few other Glee cast members are attending, including Chris.

He's excited to celebrate a co-star and see everyone again, even after the short break, until he sees Chris with his--his _Will_ (he's not exactly sure what they are to each other anymore; it occurs to him that he never asked).

His mood sours but he schools his face while posing for pictures. Chris gives him a wave and a small, closed-mouth grin from where he's standing across the room with Will and Ashley.

Darren forces back a sneer when he notices Chris' arm around Will's shoulders. Will beams at Chris, who doesn't even glance back but is now chatting with Ashley.

Chris pulls out his phone and Darren's own beeps a minute later.

 _I can feel you glaring from here,_ Chris texts him.

Darren groans and texts back, _Why the fuck is he here?_

_Relax. Remember what I said. I'll sit next to you during the show :)_

He knows what Chris is referring to, and a thrill runs through him at being near Chris again, that this will probably be the closest to a date they'll have. But he feels petulant, so he replies, _Which part? The one where you confessed that you couldn't get your head out of your ass for months? Or the part where you brought your ex-boyfriend on a business trip to the other side of the country, only to hook up with someone else?_

Darren can hear Chris sigh.

_Don't be an asshole and call last night a hookup. I have my reasons for what I'm doing right now, and I promise you mean so much to me._

As soon as Darren looks up, Chris is standing there.

"Please, don't be like this. I thought we were okay," Chris says in a hushed tone.

"I want us to be. It's just--" he pinches the bridge of his nose, "I have every right to be pissed off about this."

Chris' eyes dart around before he touches Darren's arm. "I know, and I know this is difficult, but trust me. Please."

"You could see how that's still a problem for me. One night doesn't solve...us."

"We shouldn't expect it to, Darren," Chris' hand wanders down Darren's arm until their fingers interlock. "I made a mess of things. We both did, but I'd like to work on untangling that mess."

Darren looks down at their hands. "Okay. I--Fine. Okay."

He leans in to whisper, "Love you. See you later," before departing and turning back to his friends.

Darren's stunned at how easy and natural it feels to hear that from Chris, like a soothing balm that temporarily quiets Darren's reservations.

\----

The reservations soon return once the show starts.

True to his word, Chris sits next to him, letting their arms casually brush, and Darren grins to himself at the subtle public display. However, Darren shifts in his seat, his jealousy flaring when he sees Will on the other side of Chris.

Chris lays his hand over Darren's own, his blue eyes pleading. "Don't," Chris mouths.

"I'm not dating him anymore," he continues speaking into Darren's ear, "but I can't not see him. I'm sorry."

Darren sighs and turns to him. "What do you mean, you can’t not see him? And stop saying you’re sorry. You're always sorry. Why don't you try not fucking up?" he growls under his breath.

"That’s what I’m working on. I'm trying here, but we need to be careful. You have to trust me on this. If we can't trust each other, this will never work."

Trust.

Darren mulls that particular word over in his head, wondering if he can believe in someone that has habitually lied and cheated, even if it benefitted the both of them. And it's Chris, a genuinely beautiful and amazing person, who he's desired for so long, who finally wants to give Darren everything he's been seeking.

They stay silent, as the music on the stage works to a crescendo, and then breaks.

"I don't know if I can be okay with this," Darren voices his concern. "How do I know this isn't the same game we've been playing for nearly half a year?"

"What's going on outside of us, that's the game, Darren." He grabs Darren's hand from where it had been clutching the armrest, "What's between us is real. I swear. Believe me. I'm prepared to spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

Darren sucks in a breath, caught off-guard yet again, by the gravity of Chris' declaration.

Chris looks at him earnestly. "Now do you trust me?"

Darren lays his other hand over both of theirs. "I'm working on it. I swear.”

\----

Working on it becomes a little more difficult when Darren can’t attend Chris’ birthday party, because he’s finalizing tour plans, and he _knows_ what’s-his-face is there.

So Darren sends a birthday text.

Darren religiously checks his phone, but Chris doesn’t answer until three hours later.

 _Hey babe,_ is his reply.

 _What the fuck?_ Darren texts back.

_It’s my birthday. I’m having fun. I miss you._

Darren smiles, but thinks Chris must not miss him too much if it took that long. Then, there’s another text a couple minutes later.

_How are you, hon?_

Darren can barely control his fingers as he fires back, _I know he’s there._

_You aren’t making me feel bad on my birthday._

Darren reminds him that it’s not his actual birthday.

_I know, but I wanna be with *you,* you idiot. My proximity to another guy, no matter the history, doesn't change that._

Rationally, Darren knows that, but he also knows that this guy has seen Chris naked, has touched him, and that Chris chose to let him, even when he was confused about his feelings for Darren.

It still stings, especially when Darren can't rush straight over and tell everyone at that party who Chris really wants.

 _Sorry,_ Darren replies, _I'm overreacting. I just. Ugh. Can you come over later?_

The next time that Darren looks at his phone, his face falls with the response.

_Nope. No sex, remember? If I see you, I'll want birthday sex. I'm trying to honor your dumb agreement._

The following texts make Darren break out in a grin.

_Maybe we'll meet in Paris? Foreign soil doesn't count._

_Yeah, I may or may not have checked your schedule._

Darren responds, _Naw, it's cool. Paris sounds good :)_

Just like that, he's calm again.

\----

Until he has to start the tour, with the knowledge that Chris probably won't show

_("It'll only fuel rumors that you don't need, in light of your recent heterosexual campaign," Chris snapped late one night._

_Darren didn't want to admit how right Chris was, so they went to bed angry._

_Luckily, they patched up things since then)._

Chris’ absence stings the most in Los Angeles, when some friends and other Glee cast members attend the concert.

He knows that Chris needed a vacation, but he wonders at the convenient nature of his out-of-state foray.

He also wonders why a certain ex-boyfriend is tagging along, but he doesn't nag Chris about it.

Instead, he lets the thrill of performing and meeting fans serve as a temporary distraction while he silently stews.

\----

He's out of California and on the road somewhere, waking from a brief slumber in his bunk, when he gets a text from Chris.

_I still miss you. I'm sorry I couldn't be there._

Darren replies, _Are you sorry about anything else?_

_No. I told you that I have to still see him. Nothing's happening between us anymore, I swear. It's only you. It's always been you._

It's still strange, to see these words and know who they're from. They make Darren's stomach flip, in a good way, but they still don't feel like enough.

 _You could be here, with me,_ Darren types in response.

His phone rings, and he quickly picks it up.

_"Darren, don't do this."_

"Do what? Wish things were different? You said you missed me. I'm not allowed to miss you?"

 _"That's not what I mean._ This _is the way things are. The way they have to be. Do you wanna fuck up everything you've worked for?"_

"Is it even worth it if we have to live like this, if _you_ have to live like this?"

 _"It's not like I wouldn't be private about who I'm dating, anyway."_ Chris pauses, his voice lowering. _"And I know that was rhetorical, but yes, it is worth it, because I really care about you, not just about us. If I could be there, in any way, shape, or form, I would be. For now, all I can do is offer support from afar. We have Paris, remember?"_

A dopey grin forms on his face. "Yeah, I remember. And what exactly will we do in Paris?"

 _"I'd actually like to see some of the city, but it's been far too long since I've seen you, or touched you. So, I really, really wanna kiss you, and hold you,"_ he confesses wistfully.

Darren curls up on his bunk and clutches his phone tight, basking in the dulcet familiarity of Chris' voice. "I'd like that."

_"But, honestly, it's been so long, I also really wanna see you naked."_

"Oh, yeah? I'm sure that could be arranged," he returns flirtatiously.

_"I'd like to arrange much more than that, honestly."_

"Really?"

_"Uh huh. I'll slowly strip you of your clothing, commit every inch of you to memory until you have to leave."_

Darren's breath hitches as he wonders, "H-how would you do that exactly?"

_"How would you want me to do it?"_

"Are we---fuck, are we really doing this right now?"

_"Sounds like we already are, babe."_

There's a stirring low in his groin at the thought of finally being alone with Chris again. "Ugh, I wish I could kiss you."

 _"Well, you'll have to use your imagination,"_ Chris sighs, _"but the feeling's mutual. I'll kiss your mouth, to start. I've definitely neglected the rest of your face, though. It's a really nice face."_

"Well, gee, thanks," Darren snickers.

_"It's true, and you know it. I'll brush my lips against your stubbly jaw, your cheeks, your eyelashes, your forehead. Even your nose."_

"My nose?"

_"Yeah. I miss every part of you."_

"Chris." His heart aches at the hint of anguish in his boyfriend's voice (Boyfriends? Is that what they are now? The word seems too trite to describe what's between them). "Chris, I--"

Chris clears his throat. _"So, I'll suck on your neck, but not enough to leave a mark."_

Darren kneads at the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, mimicking the phantom press of Chris' mouth. Arousal shoots straight through his spine, down to his cock, at Chris staking his claim, even minutely.

"I want you to leave a mark. Please. I wanna be yours."

 _"Darren,"_ he breathes, _"you already are, and if I could, I would. I'll slide my hands under your shirt, peel it off, because you're all sweaty and gross from the flight, but I don't even care. I'll kiss down your chest, maybe lick the sweat off, circle my finger around your nipples."_

He runs a hand over his stomach, imagining Chris dropping to his knees to worship his body, those blue eyes gazing up at him with lust. He pinches a nipple experimentally. "Mmm, fuck."

_"I'm getting to that. I have to get your pants off first."_

Darren wiggles his sweatpants down his hips, slipping his cock out from his boxers. "Done."

_"Ooh, always so eager for me. Once you're naked, I'll work you over slowly. I'd like to, um, take my time. How's that, baby?"_

He grips himself tight and lazily jerks off. "Good. So good. Better if it was you."

There's some rustling on the other end. _"It will be, soon. I'll push you onto the bed, spread your legs open, and kiss your thighs until you're aching for me to touch you again."_

He thinks about Chris between his legs, a sight he's missed and has definitely not had enough of. He bucks his hips up into his fist, remembering how hot and perfect Chris' mouth feels against his skin. "Yes. Can't wait."

Then, he wonders if their conversation is affecting Chris just as much. "Chris, are you touching yourself?"

_"Yeah, but I want to be touching you."_

He licks his palm, imagining Chris' hand around him. "That's so hot. You're so fucking hot, getting yourself off. Tell me how you're doing it."

 _"Listening to your little moans while I'm describing how I'll make you fall apart. Running my hands over my chest, my stomach, down to my cock,"_ he whispers low into the phone.

"Shit. Really?"

_"God, yes. You sound, unhh, delicious, but not as delicious as you'll--as you taste when I lick you open."_

"Yeah," he jerks himself harder. "That's--yes. Will you fuck me?"

_" 'Course. You want it, don't you? You're such a little cockslut."_

He never thought that kind of nickname would excite him, but hearing it fall from Chris' mouth, hushed and private, in the heat of arousal, is definitely doing _things._ "Only for you, Chris. Want it so bad, want you to open me up."

 _"I'll finger you,"_ Chris moans, _"until you're begging for my cock."_

"Yes, ungghh. Want you so bad," he swipes at the precum gathering at the head of his own, feeling an empty pulsing in his ass at Chris’ absence. "Miss having you inside me so much."

 _"Unhh, uh huh. I miss being with you like that, too. Baby, I promise,"_ he grunts, _"I'm gonna fuck so hard that you'll feel it for the rest of your tour.”_

He chances running a finger over his asshole, pressing it in a little bit. “Unghh, Chris.”

 _“While you're up on that stage, swiveling your hips and singing to an adoring fan about how perfect she is, I want you to remember me,"_ Chris continues with a clear air of possessiveness.

His mind fills with the image of Chris gripping his hips so roughly that he leaves bruises, and then slamming into him, owning him so completely that he forgets all about his carefully crafted facade. 

He strokes himself even harder, like he knows Chris would, until he’s tipping over the edge and spilling over his fist.

"Unhh, Chris, tell me--"

Before he can finish, he hears Chris breathily sighing, _"Darren."_

"Yeah?"

_"I love you so much."_

"I--You know how I feel about you."

 _"Okay,"_ Chris swallows, _"I understand."_

"Chris, I don't mean--"

_"No. I know you still have reservations. It's alright if you're not ready."_

Darren stays silent, because it's true. He's loved Chris for as long he can remember, but voicing those three words still feels like a huge risk, no matter how much Chris has reassured him lately. 

He's not certain that it's a risk worth taking, as this new, emotional version of Chris leaves Darren feeling more off-center than usual.

"Please. I still need time," he finally replies.

_"I'll wait as long as you need."_

His eyes well up with the show of support that Chris is giving him. "That's--Thank you."

He removes his soiled shirt in an attempt to clean up and gather himself together again, when he suddenly remembers a detail that Chris mentioned while they were getting off.

"Wait, how did you know I've been bringing someone on stage during the shows?"

_"Believe it or not, there is this thing called the Internet, and this medium called YouTube, that you may or may not have heard of? You can watch videos of all kinds on there."_

"That was not my idea, I swear. I fucking hate it. I mean, I love the fans. They're awesome, but it's--"

_"Honey, it's fine. We're both doing what we have to, which is why I don't want you to get all pissed off at me when I take actions that are necessary for us."_

"It's hard not to, knowing that you're always leaving me for him," he snaps unintentionally, suddenly wishing he wasn't so cold and alone in the bed he's been calling home for almost a week.

_"I'm sorry that I have to do this. But, whatever happened before, that's over now. I have to trust you, too, y'know. It's not like you don't have people throwing themselves at you. Some of them, your exes, no doubt."_

"Yeah, but I'm not sharing close quarters with any of them, or posting pictures of them for the entire world to see."

 _"Darren,"_ he sighs, _"you know as well as I do, that what's out there isn't always the truth."_

"Yeah, well, it's true enough."

 _"Exactly. That's the idea."_ He pauses, and then continues, _"Look, I don't wanna fight with you anymore. We'll have to agree to disagree on this."_

"But it'd be so much easier if--"

 _"I know. Please, don't go there."_ Darren thinks he might hear sniffling on the other end. _"I-I love you, okay? Only you. There's no one else."_

"Okay. Chris, are you alright?"

_"Yeah, 'm fine. You should get some sleep. Good luck on your tour."_

"But, Chris--"

_"I said I'm fine. 'Night. Love you."_

"I--Good night," he replies uneasily, before hearing a click.

As the bus lurches down the road in the darkness, he stumbles into the living area and manages to track down his guitar on the couch, via the occasional passing headlights.

He opens up his phone to start writing and strums a few notes.

\----

The next shows, in Texas, go well.

He doesn't speak to Chris but his fingers hover over a message he wishes he had the courage to send.

Somehow, words on a screen don't seem like the proper expression of what he's feeling.

Still, with a heavy heart, he sends texts like _Thinking of you, Good night,_ or _See you soon._

He knows it’s not enough.

\----

Thus, he decides to offer up his feelings in the only appropriate way, given their circumstances - through a song.

So far, he’s chosen a unique one for each city he's performed in, surmising what would be well-suited to that particular audience, or even taking a request.

Of course, he left his heart in San Francisco, and he told L.A. the story of his first superfan, fairly innocuous and obvious choices, but this night, in Nashville, he tries something more vulnerable.

Darren gives some speech about playing in a city full of folksy songwriters, and that the song he’s about to debut was written awhile ago.

Little does anyone know, he actually means several nights prior, in a dark, quiet tour bus.

He slides his phone out, presumably for the lyrics, but he’s looking at a text from Chris, including the words:

_It's only you. It's always been you._

He thinks of that night as he starts to play, how they keep reiterating the same issue, and how he wants to not get caught up in all the dumb shit that mucks up their lives. He sings:

  
_Baby, I don’t care_   
_the what, when, how, or where_   
_Folks may try to laugh and make a fuss,_   
_and try to make shit hard for us,_   
_but, darlin’, I don’t care_   


He closes his eyes, imagining a utopian future where he can come home to Chris, without having to worry about what anyone thinks.

  
 _'Cause I'll be the one to hold you_  
 _when the nights are cold,_  
 _And although I know I've told you,_  
 _I will tell you forever more _  
__

While it's true that he has told Chris how much he means to him, he still hasn’t said that four-letter word that will solidify their relationship.

Guilt twists up his heart, for his reluctance to accept Chris' true feelings, and for holding his past lack of honesty against him.

As he keeps singing, he remembers the pain in Chris' voice the last time they spoke, and that he wished that he could alleviate that somehow.

  
_I'd kiss you with the antidote_   
_So, babe, it ain't no thing_   


He finishes the song quickly and quietly, before moving on to a decidedly lighter tune.

However, for the rest of the show, he still feels raw, as if he's been broken open and can't return to his prior state.

He muddles through well enough to finish, though, and even meets some fans after the show, as usual.

But instead of having a celebratory drink with the band and Chord (who attended the show and played a song with him), he retires to his bunk, scrolling through old texts and pictures of Chris, back when they constantly tiptoed around each other, and before they let their feelings surface.

Ironically enough, these feelings, now fully expressed, still seem to be dragging them down.

Maybe they should have let their tension lie uncertainly between them, because all the distrust and separation hurts them both so much more.

At least, before he reunited with Chris in New York, Darren could feign happiness through his pain, while Chris was torn but still with someone who could give him a good, less complicated life.

Chris wouldn’t have to hide, if Darren had kept ignoring Chris' pleas.

But he couldn't have done that, and they probably wouldn’t have been any happier.

“I love you, too,” Darren sighs to empty air, staring at the picture he happened to land on, a surreptitiously taken shot of a serious, but no less breathtaking, Chris in profile, lacing his skates in Bryant Park.

“It’s hell, but I love you, too.”

\----

He's trying, _really_ trying to be okay with how Chris is handling their situation, by remembering Paris.

They have Paris.

Also, absorbing himself in tour life and the stories of fans' lives causes him to forget about his own stupid romantic melodrama for a little while.

It feels overwhelmingly inspiring to connect with other people and share a piece of himself with them, no matter how minuscule it may be.

He remembers what's important outside of his love life and the images that he and Chris are respectively projecting.

He finally realizes what Chris means when he says he's doing what he has to, and ignores most of the media.

Except when he accidentally catches a certain video of Chris and his "boyfriend" canoodling in France.

Paris was supposed to be theirs, so he can't help but feel like he's been completely blindsided by Chris' behavior.

Still unsettled, he texts Chris soon after that.

_How's your European vacay so far?_

Chris replies, _Mostly work, but not bad. It actually sort of feels like a vacation._

"I'm sure it does," Darren scoffs.

 _So, you're having fun, then?,_ Darren asks.

_Yeah, but I'm sure it'd be better with you ;)_

Darren wonders if Chris knows about the video (he probably staged it himself), but he doesn't inquire any further, because it'd probably lead to the same pointless fight they've been having since they got together. 

Instead, he types back, _I'll be there soon. I miss you so much._

A minute or two later:

_I miss you, too. Every second. How's the tour going?_

_Just great,_ Darren answers.

"Apart from watching your PR shitshow, just dandy," he mutters.

_That's good :) You were made to be up there, you know. I'm so happy that you're finally doing this._

_Thanks. I love you,_ he almost types, but quickly changes it to, _I love having the opportunity to do it._

Chris responds, _How are *you* though? I know you're having fun, but I worry about you._

He rubs a hand over his face, wondering how much he should admit, given the distance between them. 

_I miss you so fucking much, Chris. I hate that you're spending so much time with him when we finally found each other._

The reply he gets is businesslike, the emotional Chris completely disappearing:

_You know we can't be *together* together. We both need to keep our jobs. I'm ensuring our future._

Darren sighs, _*our* future or yours? You don't need to do this to prove that nothing's going on between us._

_Right. And you don't need to pose for promotional shots like you're some available hetero bachelor._

Darren fires back, _I thought that was no longer an issue._

_And I thought my relationship with Will was no longer an issue, but apparently we were both mistaken. Stop questioning my motives and fucking trust me already._

_He slams his phone down in lieu of answering with something that could irreparably damage their relationship._

He walks away and channels that angry energy into performing that night.

\----

He hasn't talked to Chris in a couple days, but their last conversation drums through his head when he's doing press for the tour, especially when some radio show host "casually" mentions how gorgeous his girlfriend is.

He doesn't know who on his team planted this comment, when they all know he hates making any direct statements about it.

_Like you're some available hetero bachelor._

The accusation in Chris' tone still turns his stomach, as if he's ashamed of them, and thus, portraying himself falsely.

Then he remembers what Chris did with Will and passively remarks to the reporter:

"Yeah, she is."

Well, at least he's no longer available.

\----

He checks his phone after the concert that night, and not surprisingly, there's a text.

_I have to skip out on Paris early. I'm sorry._

Chris, of course.

Though unsure of the time difference, Darren calls Chris, but is met with his voicemail.

He wants to explain how utterly wrecked he's been over what Chris did, so he staged something impulsive and vindictive in return.

He texts Chris:

_C'mon, talk to me._

But still no answer.

\----

While Chris ignores him, he focuses on the last few shows before the movie premiere abroad.

But once he hits the stage to perform in France, he can't help the emotions from overflowing.

At first, it's relaxing - a small, intimate show with nothing but a guitar, where he gets to chill out and go back to the basics of performing.

But then, he feels a little shaky with only one instrument and his own voice, internally blaming it on not having the band as backup, and playing in a foreign country.

He plays a bunch of older songs, strumming a bit faster than he has during the rest of the tour, more like he used to do when he was younger and eager for people to listen to him.

An audience larger than he ever imagined actually _is_ listening to him, which is amazing, but the one person he needs to pay attention to him, will continue to tune him out for who knows how long.

He remembers this right around the time he has to perform one of his newer songs.

  
 _The last time you were mine, I was just a kid,_  
 _I didn't know there were consequences for what I did,_  
he sings.

The song wasn't originally about him (at least that's what he tells himself), but he can't help drawing parallels to their current situation.

  
 _Cut to today,_  
 _I've lived enough to know that love is such a mess.  
_

It's more of a mess than he ever imagined.

He also imagines Will doing all those things he's singing about way better than he could, because he probably has.

They had an actual relationship where they woke up together and shared shy smiles over breakfast, even if it was mostly lies while Chris carried on with Darren.

Darren would like a chance to amend that, to have an honest, romantic relationship with Chris, outside influences be damned.

He wonders if Chris will give him that.

  
_Sometimes I got it right_   
_but even when I got it wrong,_   
_I really thought that you meant_   
_I was the only one_   


He's sure he never will be the only one, he'll always be the Other One; he's still second to another person, and to Chris' self-serving image.

It seems that Chris cares more about this than about him, but Darren realizes his own actions were out of proportion to the situation.

He just needs Chris to hear that.

  
_Something in me is still with you_   
_Do you feel it, too?_   
_So, I'm asking, are you in love,_   
_and is this really you?_   
_Ohh, can you tell me?_   


He hopes that Chris loves him enough to forgive him, because despite the distance and the fuckups, his heavy heart rests with Chris.

He's sure a piece of it has settled under Chris' skin permanently, burrowed in some secret place Chris couldn't find until recently.

He doesn't want Chris to lose sight of it, since the discovery was a long and difficult process to begin with, for the both of them.

Now that they're united, Darren no longer has any doubt that the feelings between them are mutual, but his concern lies in whether or not they're enough to sustain something in the long term.

He wants them to be.

He also wants he and Chris to remember what's important and not get wrapped up in what they're portraying to the world.

It's as if they're playing a version of themselves, outside of the set, and it's been fucking exhausting.

He can't wait to return what's real, to return to Chris.

If Chris will still have him.

He takes off his guitar at the end of the song, setting it and all thoughts of his present personal life aside as he sits down at the piano to continue his set.

He sings tunes that harken back to the days before all the madness, and a couple of the new ones, in order to stay consistent with what he's done on the rest of the tour.

Of course, he thanks everyone multiple times for attending, and tells them he loves them and their support.

But, what he would love even more is not going back to a lonely, cold hotel room.

\----

After a drink at the hotel bar, he resolves to call Chris, whatever the time difference (he's pretty sure Chris is still in London, so it shouldn't be very much).

Despite Darren's several attempts, Chris doesn't pick up, but Darren decides to leave a message:

"Fuck, I want to forget about all this drama. I want us to be... _us,_ and not get caught up in all the smoke and mirrors bullshit. I-I love you," Darren's voice breaks, "and I know I haven't made it easy, but you haven't, either. Anyway, this was supposed be an apology, because I was an ass, and I just want to talk to you again. You're the only one I want, Chris. I swear. I feel like I'm going fucking insane without you. But if you want to go back to him," he sighs, "I understand."

\----

He does press throughout the next day and incessantly checks his phone.

There's only silence from Chris.

\----

After he returns from the movie premiere, he notices one missed call, from Chris.

He doesn't even change out of his suit before calling right back.

"Hi, _Chris,"_ he greets breathlessly. "I--"

_"You know how sorry I am. How I wish we could do everything differently."_

"Everything? You mean, like, that we even fucked at all? That I shouldn't have feelings for you?"

_"What? No, that is not what I mean! I may have regretted it at the time, but I don't now. Remember how I pushed you to take me back? I would have never done that if I thought that were true. We've both made mistakes, but I want this to work as much as you do."_

Darren looks down, absently tugging at the hotel bedding. "So, we're okay?"

 _"Yeah, we will be. I had to make some last-minute changes to my schedule, and I've been so busy, and--"_ he goes on in a rush.

"You're not pissed off at me?"

There's a brief pause before Chris answers honestly, _"I was, but then I realized that I shouldn't listen to anything outside of us. I know how you really feel. Plus, I'd be a complete hypocrite."_

"Yeah, but still--"

 _"Also, what's this about you loving me?"_ Chris teases.

"Oh, shit." He slaps a hand to his face in remembrance of his rambling. "I totally didn't mean for it to come out that way. I needed you to listen to me and I'm--" 

_"Calm down. Honey, it's okay. I love you back, if you can recall."_

He can hear the smile in Chris' voice, so he smiles in return. "Yeah, I do. I don't want us to forget that, though."

_"I definitely won't , and about backing out of our secret rendezvous, I swear I'll make it up to you."_

"Oh, yeah? How exactly?" he lowers his voice seductively.

 _"Darren Criss, I am not having phone sex with you again,"_ he admonishes. _"I don't have time right now."_

"Fuck work. Fuck me instead."

"Darren! _I--We can save this for another day, yeah?"_

"Fine. Skype at some point?"

Chris groans, _"We'll see. What about the 'no sex' rule?"_

"Technically, it wouldn't count, but that was kind of fucked from the beginning, anyway. No pun intended. We've already done the getting-to-know you thing. It's how we got here."

_"True, but I think it might be good if we abstain for a bit before our first date. Think of the anticipation, Dare."_

"That could be nice. I--I'd really like to date you," he chokes out, thankful that they can work on a resolution, and that their relationship is still intact, despite their actions.

 _"Looks like you already are,"_ Chris chuckles. _"I really love you, y'know."_

"Love you, too," he breathes out, almost in a whisper.

 _"Don't forget it, though."_

His eyes well up at his own similar statement repeated back to him. "I definitely won't. Talk to you soon."

_"Bye for now, Darren."_

"Bye."

He hangs up, and knows a simple phone call won't solve this issue, but he hopes that their willingness to work on it will be enough.

It has to be.

\----

It's a relief to be stateside again, finishing out the tour.

Darren has kept in close contact with Chris since the Paris incident, making sure that he sends sweet and flirtatious texts and a few pictures along the way.

Their relationship seems to strengthen every day.

But without their physical connection, there’s a phantom pain lingering in Darren’s chest,and radiating throughout his whole body.

He seeks out and welcomes touch from other people, but it can't completely fill the void.

All he can do is wait until they see each other again.

Luckily, he doesn't have to wait for very long because Chris shows up when he least expects it.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaims, spotting Chris lounging on a couch backstage in New York City.

"I told you I'd make it up to you," Chris grins.

"But, I have to be on, like, really soon. I’m already running late. And there's press here. How'd you even--?"

Chris raises an eyebrow at him. "I can be stealthy when I want to be. Let them wait," he shrugs. "Your name _is_ on the marquee. C’mere."

He crosses the room in a flash, following Chris' command, and pinning him to the couch.

“Hi,” Chris smiles at him softly.

"Hey, yourself. Do you have any idea how much I missed you?"

Chris strokes Darren's cheek. "Mmm, yeah. Some."

Darren takes a moment to let his eyes roam across Chris' face, taking in every feature that he's grown to know so well, from the slight crinkle Chris gets around his eyes when he grins brightly, to the smoothness of his skin, and the sharp cut of his jaw. When he brings his hand up to mirror Chris' movements, his fingers catch on some fine stubble there.

"Haven't had time to shave," Chris remarks quietly.

"I like it," Darren returns, before brushing his lips against the facial hair on the edge of Chris' jaw.

Chris turns his head so their lips meet briefly. "I missed you, too," he whispers, and sucks on Darren's bottom lip. "Missed this."

Chris takes advantage of Darren's slightly open mouth to slip his tongue inside. The hand on Darren's cheek drifts to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

Darren instinctively rolls his hips down, seeking friction. He breaks away to breathe out, "Wanna do so many things. No time."

"That you're wasting," Chris retorts.

"I beg to differ." He sucks at Chris' neck, and awkwardly reaches between them to cup Chris through his jeans. "I bet I can make you come in the next five minutes." One of Chris' hand curls tight around Darren's waist, dragging over his hip. "Ooh, feeling am-ambitious, are you?"

"Fuck, yeah. Want you to feel it," he rolls his hips again. "Want you to think of me, like I'll be thinking of you, like I'm always thinking of you."

"Yeah?" Chris moans as Darren unzips Chris' fly. "I'd be doing that anyway. Can't stop."

Darren pulls back to look Chris in his beautiful blue-green eyes, hazy with lust and anticipation. He licks his palm, staring straight at him while he dips his hand in Chris' underwear. "Tell me," he kisses near Chris' ear, "how do you think about me?"

"Unhh, Darren," he groans when Darren strokes him properly, "like this. On me, in me. All the time."

Darren rubs his thumb over the head on the upstroke, and Chris digs his fingers into Darren's side.

"Yeah, that's it," Darren murmurs, steadying his other hand on Chris' shoulder, and nipping near the neckline of Chris' shirt.

"H-harder. Shit."

Darren runs his tongue over the scar on Chris' neck, and strokes faster, twisting his wrist every few times.

"I'm gonna--oh," Chris quietly gasps before he releases over Darren's fist and on their clothes.

Darren kisses Chris to swallow the rest of his moans until he finishes. Then, he kisses across his cheek and down his neck. "Shit. Now I have to change."

Chris pets the nape of his neck. "You had to change anyway, and you still have to put on that blazer. Can you stay, just a little longer, hon?" His lips graze Darren's cheek.

"Yeah. Yeah, always," he says tenderly, though still painfully hard in his jeans.

"Good. I wish I could return the favor," Chris thrusts up weakly. "I can't wait to touch you again."

"Damn it." He drops his forehead to Chris' shoulder. "We really are fucked with the no sex thing."

"I've been trying to tell you," Chris laughs, "but I also wanted to respect your decision. Obviously, it hasn't worked, so we definitely are fucked. Completely," his voice drops as he kisses Darren's collarbone, "and thoroughly," he kisses Darren's neck, "fucked," he draws out the last word thickly against Darren's ear.

Darren kisses his cheek. "Ugh, I really, really have to go."

"You should probably, um, calm down a bit first?" Chris rubs up and down his back.

"Being near you isn't helping," Darren sighs.

"Then, go get changed." Chris pecks the corner of Darren's mouth. "I'll be waiting for you later."

He turns his head to nuzzle into Chris' chest, relieved to finally be next to him again, after all the drama and the unnecessary pain they've caused each other.

Still, he wants to be clear that he's done with vengefulness.

"Chris?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really fucking sorry, about everything. I don't ever want to hurt you again. Ever."

"I hurt you more than you hurt me, but let's not keep score. We should wipe the slate clean, yeah?"

He kisses the angry red mark around Chris' scar; he must have bit there without realizing it. "I like the sound of that."

"Mmm." Chris squeezes Darren's hip. "Now, go, before they start looking for you."

He presses his palm to Chris' chest and sits up, effectively straddling him. He tucks Chris back into his pants and zips him up.

When his gaze drifts up to Chris' face, he encounters a still blissed out expression, and smile. He bends down again to quickly kiss Chris' mouth.

"I love you so much," Darren whispers, resting his forehead against Chris' own.

"I know. I think I've always known, and I'm finally okay with it." He kisses Darren back. "Love you, too."

Chris sounds so utterly content that it almost hurts to leave his arms, but he has no choice.

"I'll see you soon, Chris," he swallows.

"Relax. I'm not leaving this time, or ever again."

"O-okay. Well, I should, um, go."

He finally lifts off of Chris and stands, but realizes that their hands are clasped together.

"That requires letting go of me," Chris chuckles, but makes no move to unclasp them.

"I don't want to let you go. I never did."

"You don't have to," Chris kisses their knuckles, "not in that way, but you do have a show to do."

"I do," Darren grins, taking away his fingers. "As for returning the favor, I'm holding you to that."

"Don't worry. I will."

\----

The show goes well, despite starting a bit late.

He rambles a bit, like always, but he can't resist his excitement over what's waiting for him.

At one point, he does become serious, though, mentioning something that's been on his mind a lot lately:

“I like specificity, I like being explicit. I work in a profession that tends to misconstrue what you say. You have an agenda of what you wanna say and it gets completely blurry. That’s why I like being with people in real time.”

 _As opposed to being away from them, and not knowing what they’re thinking, but now I do know, and it’s okay,_ his brain supplies, while Chris and the events of this summer flash through his head.

His heart stutters a bit, but he recovers and works something in about how the fans can hear the words straight from that spot in his chest, how astounded he is that they’re showing up to support him, so much that he can't even properly express it, because really, that's the premise of the song he's about to sing.

He definitely needs a moment to breathe after that, so he lets the band begin, as he spins around to gather his thoughts, and some water.

Overwhelmed by the moment, and by Chris' presence, he realizes he's lucky that he hasn't spit out anything he wasn't ready to explain.

There's still time for that, thankfully.

So, he breathes out, faces the crowd again, and eventually, begins to sing:

_Everything changes now that you're mine_

Everything _has_ changed in the span of two short months. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions, from tearing himself up in a futile effort to resist Chris' pleas, to painful admissions that they couldn't coexist without the intimacy they created between each other this year, and the reality of being in a relationship with Chris, which included _not_ being with him a lot of the time. 

_Just wanna tell you I love you, but it's the hardest thing to say_

He really does love him, and though it’s mutual, their love will always be difficult. He still has to share him with Chris’ other passions, but at least he won't have to share him intimately anymore.

Chris has given himself as fully as he can, and so has Darren. Now that they’ve expressed the extent of their feelings for each other, and all their frustrations, it’s as if no borders exist between them.

While he can’t shout about how freeing it is that they’re finally on the same emotional plane, he can sing this song, and use the whole stage and his body to manically express how it affects him.

He starts at one end of the stage and somehow, by the next chorus, he not-so-gracefully twirls his way to the middle of it.

He literally twists around, practically upside down, _tryin' to find some kinda way,_ because that's literally what this summer has done to him - turned him inside out and upside down in the worst way possible, but also in the best way.

He and Chris have broken and repaired each other several times over, but they've learned from it, hopefully.

And, finally, maybe, they can be happy together.

_Just to tell you I need you in a way that will be heard_

He remembers over the past year how many times he tried to tell Chris, and then, Chris tried to tell him how much they needed each other. Now, after all the miscues and heartache, they finally both believe it, so much so that Chris is here, and not actively avoiding him.

He's _here,_ and they love each other, and nothing can stop them.

He plans to show Chris just how much once the show is over.

But he can't lose himself in that thought yet, so he focuses his energy out towards the crowd again as the song ends, after he sits in front of his keyboard and introduces the next song.

\----

He manages to stay on track and in the moment for the rest of the show, until he's sweating and collapsing offstage after the encore.

"You okay?" Chris asks with concern in his eyes when Darren finds him again.

"Yeah. I need a shower so fucking bad," he mumbles, wiping his brow with his shirt as he sits down next to Chris on a couch in the tour bus.

Chris runs his fingers through Darren's hair. "I could, um, maybe, help you with that?"

"Mmm," he leans into the touch, "how are you even real? Who let you in here?"

"I know people," he grins.

"Ahh, using your fame for the forces of evil? I like it."

"Darren," he stills his fingers, "nothing associated with you could be evil."

He offers a lazy, content smile, wondering how he ever forced himself into a wasteland devoid of quiet, intimate moments like this, where the whole world narrows to nothing but them.

Maybe, because after the harmful ways they treated each other, he thought he'd only get this relationship with Chris in his wildest imagination.Then, he realizes how wrong that was when he remembers his own words, urging Chris to fall head first into this thing with him:

_"We could be like this, every day."_

He settles his head into Chris' lap, thinking that his instincts that they could satisfy each other, more than just sexually, were correct.

They could be playful, loving, and warm to each other.

They could be exactly what the other one needed.

They could be exactly how they are in this moment.

Darren's eyes well up at the potential of his past statement coming to fruition, of how goddamn absolutely _perfect_ this feels.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Chris questions, his fingers absently playing with Darren's curls. "Usually, I'm the introspective one."

"You give me a lot to think about sometimes. I can be introspective, too, y'know?" He pauses, intertwining Chris' free hand with one of his own, and letting them drape over Darren's stomach. "I like us a lot. Like this, I mean. That's all."

"I like us like this, too," Chris replies before they fall into a comfortable silence.

He kisses Chris' knuckles. "I should, um, maybe get cleaned up, but I don't wanna move."

"Take a nap, babe. I'll wake you up later, okay?"

"No, wait." Darren sits up quickly to peel off his sticky, sweaty t-shirt. "Lay with me?"

Chris hesitantly looks him up and down. "I, uh, I--Here?"

"Why not? You weren't opposed to getting a handjob earlier in a way more public place. Unless you wanna lay in my bed?"

Despite everything they've done together, Chris' face flushes. "Yeah. In your bunk, you mean? It'll be like the summer camp experience I never had."

Darren wiggles his eyebrows. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

He relaxes immediately at the flirtation. "Maybe, after you get some sleep. I've heard it's not that impressive."

Darren stiffly stands up and stretches his hand out to Chris. "Way to give a guy a complex."

"Hey," he takes Darren's hand, standing with him, "size doesn't matter, right?"

Darren leads him back to his bed. "The fact that you phrased that as a question worries me."

He grabs Darren's hips. "I like you the way you are. Maybe even, love you?"

"Love me, eh?" Darren cups Chris' face in both hands and fleetingly presses their mouths together. "I think I love you, too."

"You love me?" Chris asks quietly, his blue-green eyes full of awe.

"Yeah, I do. C'mon. I'm about to fall over. Let's go to bed." He takes Chris' hand again.

Darren drags Chris into his bed, and curls up against him.

He falls into a slumber with his head on Chris' chest.

\----

"Hey, hey," someone nudges Darren's shoulder and whispers, "let's get you cleaned up."

It's Chris.

He's here, Darren remembers, smiling dreamily at him.

"You're here," Darren tells him.

"Yup, and you're smelly," Chris reminds him, "and as much as I love you, and the way you smell, you should shower."

Darren rubs his eye. "You love me, and I love you."

"Yeah, yeah. We've established that, hon. C'mon. Up." He tugs Darren's hand.

He looks at Chris, his expression filled with nothing but compassion. He's finally got what's he wanted for so long.

He hopes it lasts.

"Chris, is this gonna be our life, when we get back?"

"I sure hope so."

"Me too."

\----

After a shower and some more rest, they share a proper reunion at Chris' hotel room, filled with kisses and worship of each other's skin.

Darren once again reluctantly says goodbye. He returns to the bus in time to depart for the next city, but doesn't explain his absence.

He does text Chris, like a ridiculously giddy teenager:

_Fuck, I miss you already._

He gets a quick text back.

_Miss you, too. Love you._

Darren grins and replies: 

_Love you, too._

It's been a long journey to 

this, where a text from Chris brightens his mood, rather than forcing him to pick up a bottle.

He's so glad that it's the former.

He hopes it stays that way.

\----

It does, most of the time.

As they settle into life at home (as much as they can settle), they have their arguments, complete with doors slamming and threatening to leave, but they always repair it rather than let it linger.

Staying in a relationship with each other challenges both of them quite often, but it's so, so worth it, especially when they collapse into each other's arms at the end of a long day.

It feels normal.

It feels right.

It feels like they could do it for the rest of their lives.

Maybe they will.


End file.
